


Repeated Encounters

by GoldenPaca



Series: a room full of vampires (arfov) [4]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Light Angst, Non-Traditional Vampire Mechanics, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28893930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenPaca/pseuds/GoldenPaca
Summary: Things were looking up for Impulse. He felt like he was doing better, like he was better than he used to be. He had someone to hold on to, a cause to work for.A blast from the past might just confirm that even more.
Relationships: impulseSV & Welsknight Gaming, impulseSV & ZombieCleo
Series: a room full of vampires (arfov) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104158
Kudos: 18





	Repeated Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> Vampires in this AU can turn into specific animals either at will, when in a frenzy, or when they're very emotional. Here, Wels turns into a horse, Impulse into a shark, and Cleo into a spider. 
> 
> With that out of the way, hope you enjoy!

Impulse chats idly with Wels, the horse-vampire having just returned from a visit to one of their protected communities. He seems to be in high spirits, and so Impulse is as well, easily deflecting the flirty comments Wels is known to throw into casual conversation.

He didn’t quite think being a vampire can be this mundane. It’s still relatively new to him of course, and there is still that underlying fear of going into a frenzy whenever he’s near any humans, but this seems to be as close to normal as he can ever return to. Everyone here was more relaxed, more humane, more human than monster (or, well, mostly everyone. False still scares him and a lot of the other vampires would probably agree.) It’s certainly a contrast to his old masters back when he was a bloodbag, and it’s definitely so much better than constantly being near the ocean, where the sirens who turned him continue to lurk beneath the waves (the feeling of slimy tentacles grabbing him briefly clouds his mind, and he absentmindedly rubs his shoulder.) His thoughts flash to Tango, to his signature smirk and his ruby red eyes and he pushes down the sigh of disappointment threatening to spill out of his mouth. He often finds himself missing his first vampire friend, missing the excited conversations the two would have by his beachside hut. He hasn’t visited the area in a while, not since Wels had invited him to help Xisuma’s clan, and although he is much more at peace here with the others, he can’t help but yearn for Tango’s not quite quiet company.

He jumps when a hand finds itself on his shoulder, dangerously close to his bite mark, and he hisses at the phantom pain that rushes up his spine. He turns to his left and sees Wels, giving him a somber, knowing smile. 

“You alright there bud?” Wels asks, taking his hand away and placing it nearer to where Impulse’ hand lay to support him. Wordlessly, Impulse wraps his fingers around his friend’s hand. It wasn’t anything too special or romantic; just a grounding gesture to keep him from getting too lost in his thoughts. Wels understands just fine, reciprocating the action with a gentle squeeze.

“Uh-yeah, just thinking," Impulse murmurs, shaking his head lightly. He would get lost in his thoughts a lot, and for one reason or another they would always lead to him thinking about his village, his turning, his beach and Tango, and those thoughts always made him more emotional than what is healthy for a relatively young vampire like him. Sometimes it would lead him to the edge of transforming, the need to be in water pulsing beneath his skin like an itch he couldn’t quite relieve himself of until he gives in or calms down. He’d prefer the latter option, but sometimes he just can’t hold himself back. It’s a good thing he has people like Wels and Xisuma to help him recover if his transformation, or heaven forbid his frenzy, is particularly traumatizing. The fact that the other vampires, and humans, who often stick around the main base are supportive of him as well helps a lot.

“You know, I think I can help you stop thinking," Wels cheekily offers, and when Impulse laughs, he’s happy that it’s genuine.

“Yeah, not gonna work this time Wels," he teases, and Wels rolls his eyes, an exaggerated pout finding its way onto his face.

“Can’t blame a man for trying.” His pout transforms into a wide grin that Impulse can’t help but return.

“No, I suppose I can’t," he replies, standing up to stretch. He lets out a relieved sigh when he feels the joints in his arm pop, and rolls his shoulders back, flashing Wels one last smile.

“Thanks for the company Wels, but I think I have to go back to working on my farm. See you later?” Impulse tells him, beginning to head towards one of his latest creations. He’s happy that his abilities can be of use to the other humans they collectively work to protect, and it returns some semblance of his past that he’s more than delighted to have.

“Anytime, Impulse! You know where to find me.” Wels gives him a soft kiss on his cheek, pulling away with a wink before he transforms into a stark white horse and galloping away. Impulse shakes his head at the modern knight’s flair for dramatic exits, chuckling as he keeps his hand in his pockets as he heads to work.

He passes by Stress discussing with Xisuma over a few documents, and he waves at them even if they’re too busy to wave back. He does see Stress briefly gaze at him with a smile, and he gladly smiles back. Once he reaches his current work in progress: a self-sufficient tree farm, he rolls the sleeves of his black shirt up and gets to work.

He enjoys working, not just because it helps the humans, but also because it distracts him from his thoughts for a few hours. When he works on his inventions, it’s just him and the machine, mind focused on his work. Here, in his small little work place, there is no one who can pull him away, who can cause him pain or sorrow.

It’s probably why it takes him some time to register the three pairs of footsteps heading in his direction until he hears a familiar voice gasp out. “Impulse?”

He jerks back from where he was busy adjusting the machine, the voice sending his mind for a loop. He can’t believe it, doesn’t want to believe it only for him to be proven wrong, but when he turns around he sees his fears dissuaded.

There, standing in front of him in all her brazen glory was Cleo, with the same fiery red crown of hair on her head. She looks off, looks not quite human but he finds that he doesn’t care. He launches himself towards her, nearly avoiding Xisuma and another bespectacled man as he tackles her into a hug. His hands crumple her shirt as he clutches her close, ignoring the cold of her skin to focus instead on the feeling of her own arms wrapped around him, holding him close like she used to do when their old masters would treat them badly.

“You’re alive, oh my god you’re alive," he mutters into her shoulder, tightening his grip as tears cloud his vision. Memories of being hunted, of being tracked down and separated come back to him, and finally, finally he can dissuade that nagging guilt in his mind that he caused her death. She’s here, not quite human by the looks of it, but she’s walking among them, and she’s clutching him just as tight.

“You too," she says it like she can’t believe it, filled with wonder and thanksgiving that is reflected in his own voice. “I thought you died but you’re here.”

She pulls away, smile bright and eyes filled with tears, but it fades away when she stares intently at his shoulder. His shirt must have slipped when he ran towards her, and as he follows her gaze, he sees that the scar of one of his many bite marks is present for her to see. He moves to cover it up, a small blush appearing on his cheeks, but he is stopped by Cleo’s hand hovering above it, fingertips barely grazing the not-quite-healed skin. The light touch is enough to send a jolt of pain through his body, and though he barely flinches, he can see Cleo notice his discomfort, mouth pressed into a frown.

“You were turned," she whispers, pulling her hand back to grasp at his wrist. He nods, finally adjusting his shirt and avoiding the intense gaze he knows is directed towards him.

“You were too," he states plainly, looking at the wide scar on her stomach that he vividly remembers was covered in red last time they met. He also lets his eyes trail along her body, noting the rotting patches of skin covering her. It’s not like anything he’s seen so far, and it equal parts intrigues him and worries him.

“God, I’m so sorry.” Cleo’s voice is pained, not at all like the haughty and confident voice Impulse is used to hearing from her. Even in their last encounter, when he watched her slowly bleeding out on the ground, her voice was steady when she told him to run away. Now, her voice trembles with thinly veiled rage and sorrow, causing Impulse to look straight at her. Sure enough, there were tears running down her face, mouth trembling as she tries to stay strong. 

“What for?” Impulse asks, glancing to the side to see Xisuma whispering to their companion. The man in glasses nods, passing by them to squeeze Cleo’s wrist as he and their leader leave the two alone. Cleo doesn’t seem to notice, glaring at the ground as though that would make her tears go away.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone," she bitterly replies, self-loathing rolling off her in waves. “I shouldn’t have let you get caught up in my mess of an escape.” She looks up again, and Impulse is startled when multiple pairs of red eyes stare at him, each one swirling with anger and agony. “Now look at you, cursed like me.”

Impulse blinks once, twice, as Cleo’s words start to sink in, and the self-loathing starts to make sense. 

“Me?” he asks incredulously, stepping back to take a better look at his old friend. “Look at you! You look like you died and you’re still thinking about me?”

“Impulse-” she tries to speak up, but he won’t let her, hands twitching at his side. He can feel the rage bubbling beneath his skin, threatening to make him transform. Already, that need for water fills his mind but he pushes it down, forces it to go away as he focuses on staring Cleo down.

“Look, it was my choice to escape with you, my choice to head to the ocean, my choice to leave you bleeding in the forest!” He raises his voice, ignoring the pinpricks in his arms. “This isn’t because of you alright? I was turned because I was an idiot who thought I would be safe surrounded by water, not because you failed me in any way.” He runs a hand through his hair, wincing when he feels sharp claws scraping against his skull. It’s getting harder for him to breathe and so he forces himself to calm down, closing his eyes so as to focus better on his surroundings. He needs to calm down. He can’t transform here, not when the only body of water nearby is the small stream drifting through his machine.

He hears cautious footsteps stop in front of him, and he opens his eyes to Cleo, staring at him with a single pair of eyes instead of multiple.

“Are you alright?” she asks, taking on her more protective and motherly persona. Impulse would have laughed if he wasn’t so focused on keeping his emotions in check.

“Yeah, I’m good," he exhales, feeling the pinpricks start fading away. He forces his shoulders to relax, letting his hands sway slowly at his side. “I just need to calm down. Would be bad if I transform here.”

He lies down on the ground, just as he remembers doing with Tango at the beach, but instead of sand there is cold stone beneath him. He prefers it that way, gives him something to focus on and makes it easier for him to calm down. Cleo moves beside him, taking a similar position but he doesn’t look at her. Instead, he stares up at the ceiling, focusing on the breathing exercises Wels taught him.

Breathe in.

_Cleo’s here, but she’s turned. She thinks it’s her fault that I’m turned._

Breathe out.

_She’s here, she’s alright, she’s alive. I don’t have to lose her, it wasn’t my fault she died._

Breathe in.

_Tango’s not here, he left me, he doesn’t understand me. He hurts humans, I don’t want to hurt humans._

Breathe out.

_Wels is here, Xisuma’s here, Cleo’s here, and they love me and they help me. I’m helping the humans. **I’m not a monster.**_

“I’m not a monster," he whispers, letting his hand fall to the side. He blindly reaches out for Cleo’s hand, wrapping his fingers around it. Her flesh is cold but there’s an inherent warmth to the action that makes his heart swell. He turns to face her. “I’m not a monster, and neither are you.”

Cleo stays silent, but she lets a small smile stay on her face. Impulse returns it, and through those smiles they communicate what they’ve wanted to say to each other for the months that they’ve been apart.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but it doesn’t matter. For now, Cleo’s back, and that’s enough for him.


End file.
